Battlefield Ponderings
by BansheeWails
Summary: Seras, just recently tapped into her true vampric powers is on the search for Integra. She summarizes the hell that was London and a small encounter with Anderson and company. R&R


Rancid; foul; unnatural; blasphemy; wrong; evil; fear; terror.

So many words, so many, to describe similar things. That is what London had sunken into. The darkest abyss of humanity struck down by a shadow of the past bent on meaningless war on a place that knew nothing about it. Rubble and ruins, bathed in fire and blood, plagued by freaks and ghouls. Where had it all gone? Smoke clouded the once clear sky; nothing moved other than the mindless hunger-driven ghouls or their false vampire counterparts.

All thoughts that ran through the mind of a single vampiress in the inferno, yet not alone. She had to find Sir Integra, had to protect her Master's Master! Save her from the city they had all striven to protect under a Queen they promised to protect and serve.

They had failed. So much human life was lost. A repeat of Germany 1943, an extermination. What else could it be called? Genocide? Homicide? Murder? All or none was the only thing that crossed her mind. She flitted about the sky, a streak of red mass sprinting madly over the fires of hell, searching still for Sir Hellsing.

Though as much as she tried to suppress these thoughts, they bubbled forth like a dam breaking under built up pressure from heavy rains. She could be one of the ghouls down there if she hadn't been made a vampire. She would have been one of those ghouls. Mindless and weak. Dead, yet walking still. Feasting on humans and spreading like rats.

'Keep focused, Mignonette.'

Of course, how did she let musings get in the way; she still had duties at hand. She didn't need to thank him, he already knew what she felt and thought. Darting about the sky still she heard her target, Sir Integra, and the voices of others, Anderson's standing out prominently. Diving quickly, she sighed, a whisper upon the wind as she landed, reforming around the Sire of England Protestant Knights, black matter making a shield. She smiled, oddly serene given the situation. She watched them all, these humans, Anderson. He used to strike terror into her very being, but now no longer and he knew it as well.

"Aye, this one is a greater match then ye, best ta just leave as is."

Yes, retreat, do it.

"But Father! We ca "

"Aye, ye can, do as your Father asks of ye."

He said it all so calmly, yet so much authority hung on those words. She could see the submission as they all retreated with their Father.

"We'll be seeing ye soon, Vampire."

Seras smiled still, inclining her head as she watched them all go. It almost made her sad. Not in the typical sense, they were all going to die, death was tragic wasn't it?

Shadow-matter returning to its prior position to her arm, flickering about as it was unable to settle back into an arm.  
>"Sir? ...We should go now, shouldn't we?"<p>

Seras looked on to her Mistress, tinges of foreboding creeping up her being. Master still hadn't returned; they were alone, and she had confidence in herself, but how long could she survive and protect against the hordes of Nazis that remained? She was stronger than ever with the blood of Pip, but she had no other source to refuel and she would never dare use Sir Integra as food.

"Yes, we should. Come, Seras; we have business to finish now."

Ever Sir Integra. It brought another smile to the vampire's face. "Yes, Sir!"

Seras didn't dare whisk Sir Integra away into the shadows; she simply followed behind as they walked towards the headquarters of Millennium; out of the pan and into the fire, nothing ever changed, different foes just on a different scale. But she was ready, her Master would be back and he would win. No foe would beat him.

A simple thought brought one thing to her uneasy mind.

Assurance.

Everything would be okay. Hellsing, even though battered down by circumstances most unfortunate, would live through this. Though in the case of vampires, un-live through it all. Yes, she could feel it. They were going to live, through luck or might, because those were the orders given, and she wasn't going to readily disobey them.

For Life.

For London.

For Integra.

For Pip.

For Hellsing.


End file.
